


The Harrowing

by EveTen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Dragon Age Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, BAMF Stiles, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares, Physical Abuse, Stiles-centric, Temporary Character Death, dragon age elements, mainly the magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:22:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveTen/pseuds/EveTen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't quite sure what's going on in his mind but he is sick of the dreams he's been having and is horribly worried he might be going insane.  Dreams plague him at night and distract him during the day and won't go away.  On top of that, his best friend is a werewolf who's dating a werewolf hunter's daughter and a werewolf Alpha is going around killing people.  On top of that, he also may or may not be developing magical powers. On top of that, his dead mother is haunting his dreams and really treating him terribly.  Go figure.</p><p>Or: the one Dragon Age sort of crossover that involves Stiles and magic.  Obviously not a good combination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreamer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfiction in a long time and the first one posted on this site. I really, really appreciate you reading this!
> 
> So I will now take a moment to warn you of triggers. There is some abuse, emotional/psychological and light physical, in this story and this chapter. So if those are a trigger of yours, please do click out or skip any scene involving Stiles' mother, Claudia. Also, this is not as sweet or humorous (right now at least, maybe later, I don't really know at this point) as the summary may make it out to be. Sorry about that.
> 
> If you're still here, great! Welcome! As previously mentioned, this is my first fic in a while and my first Teen Wolf fic. I also do not have a beta. So, I do ask that you guys let me know if I mess up please!
> 
> So, I decided I would take two things I love, TW and DA, and merge them. I really only took the magic bits from DA and left everything else the way it was in TW. Stiles is a mage in this story. If anyone is interested and doesn't know much about DA and magic from Dragon Age, I will leave some links at the end notes for you to browse. I'll go into more detail on magic later on in this story, but not for awhile yet.
> 
> Also, regarding timing, this story starts after S1E3. I haven't watched Season 1 of Teen Wolf in forever and have only looked at the wiki summaries to get an idea of what was going on, so if I'm horribly out of line with common canon knowledge, I apologize.
> 
> Thanks once again and enjoy!

Stiles Stilinski dreamed.  He dreamed happily of good and he dreamed fearfully of bad but mostly, he just dreamed.  Of this and of that, of things that made him laugh and cry.  The dreams started, in the intensity that is beginning to drive him insane, a few weeks ago when he and Scott, his best friend, went out to find half of a dead woman’s body.  They started innocently at first, in such realism that he thought he’d been teleported to an alternate universe.  The first night, the night after the first day back to school, Stiles dreamed of Lydia Martin, the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, kissing him sweetly, whispering “I love you” and “stay with me” all through the night.  He dreamed of success and courage, of his father’s “I’m proud of you”s. Then, a few nights after, the sweet dreams turned to sour nightmares.  He dreamt Scott, brother and werewolf, clawed his throat out and tore at his insides in moon-driven insanity and rage.  He dreamt of his father being torn to pieces by the boy his son had befriended and brought into his house.  These dreams had continued, relentlessly, every night since.

Those were some of the best and the worst.  But the dream he had tonight, the dream he just thankfully left, was the most horrid, the most disturbing, dream he’d had in a long, long time.  Stiles had dreamt of his mother.

Stiles hadn’t seen his mother’s visage in a dream in such a long time.  He had only recently, in the last few years, been able to think of his mother without that awful, striking pain flashing in his chest.

Stiles lay shaking in his bed, wrapping himself in blankets and sheets, desperately trying to get warm and stop the shaking. The cold wasn’t on the outside though.  It was in Stiles.  It was that cold feeling he got when he thought of the hospital room his mother had stayed in the last months of her life.  Sterile, clean, simple, white.  Always cold because of the tiles and the thin blankets and his mother’s blank, unrecognizing stare.  Stiles had seen that stare again tonight, and the room Claudia had died in.  Both had been accompanied by accusations that cut him open and bled him dry.

“You left me,” Claudia cried, “I was alone when I died.  You left me, your father left me. I died in agony, alone in a cold hospital.  It’s your fault you stupid, pathetic boy.  I died alone and in darkness because of _you_!”

She screamed and raged at him, her face twisting from apathy to fury in seconds.

“You should be here! Not me! I didn’t abandon you like you did me! You treacherous son!  You left your mother to die! And for what? A bed? Because you were _cold_? Because you hadn’t _slept_ ,” She spit, “I hope you die cold and alone, boy! Just like your mother!”

Stiles stood from the chair, the uncomfortable thing he’d always sat in when visiting his mother, and turned away, tears falling freely from his honey eyes, trying to block her voice out.  His mother seemed to almost _twist_ her way out of the bed and back into his gaze, eyes full of hate and scorn.

“It’s your fault,” she accused, “and your father knows it.  John resents you.  He _blames_ you. He knows it’s your fault he wasn’t with me, his wife, his _love_ , when I died.  He wishes you were gone.  You’re just a burden on him, something else he has to worry about.  He hasn’t had time to _grieve_ for me because of you!  Because you can’t take care of yourself, you irresponsible wretch! It’s no wonder he turned into an alcoholic! Anyone would if they had to raise _you_ alone!”

Claudia darted to him and grabbed his face with both icy hands.

“Say it,” his mother commanded, in a voice he couldn’t recognize, “admit that it is _your_ fault that I died in misery. That I _lived_ in misery.  Admit that you’re to blame.”

Stiles tried to shake her away, sobbing all the while.

“Say it!” Claudia yelled.

“Please,” he begged, “I’m sorry! I didn’t- I never- please!”

Claudia shook him violently.

“Say it!”

“Please don’t make me!” Stiles cried.

“Say it!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’m sorry,” Stiles felt himself crumble and fall, “I left you, made Dad leave you, I hurt you and him, it’s all my fault.  I should’ve been better, I’m sorry I wasn’t better, Mommy!”

Claudia slapped him, hard.  Stiles froze in shock and looked at her, wide-eyed.

“Never,” she spat, “call me that. You call me Mother. You lost the right to that name when you abandoned me.”

Stiles nodded, tear tracks so visible where her handprint was.

Claudia smiled, “Thank you, my baby boy,” she almost sang, “it’s good that we admit things we’ve done wrong.  You’ve made me proud.”

Stiles nodded again, blank faced and eyes downcast.

His mother’s face turned stony again. She lifted his chin and made him meet her gaze.

“Say “Thank you, Mother” now.” She ordered.

“Thank you, Mother” Stiles tonelessly voiced.

Claudia beamed, “Good! Now, you need to wake up or you’ll be late for school!”

Then Stiles had woken, pillow and sheets soaked with tears and sweat.  He was cold and shivering. That dream replays in his head, seemingly stuck on loop for what seemed like hours. Eventually, Stiles manages to get out of bed and into the shower.  He mechanically goes through his morning routine, too distracted to really care that he’d almost certainly be late today.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles does, in fact, arrive to school late that day.  He goes to the office and gets his tardy slip and then goes to his first period.  He hands the slip to his teacher, who seems to believe he’s the scum of the earth for getting to class late, and sits in his seat next to Scott.

“Dude! Where have you been? I have something really important to tell you!” Scott whispered excitedly

“Had a bit of a rough morning,” replied Stiles, “and it’s only like half an hour into first period so it’s not like I missed three week bro.”

Scott rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever. So, anyway, I went to Derek yesterday, you know, after you told me about the bus drive, and we fought for a little bit because I was pissed and I thought he was the reason all of this was happening to me and-“

“McCall!” barked their teacher, “have something to say? If not, I suggest you shut up and pay attention.”

“Yes sir!”

Scott turned to Stiles once more and mouthed ‘later’.

Stiles nodded and turned his eyes back to the board.  He tried to pay attention but it was a lost cause.  From what Scott was able to tell him, it seemed like Derek _wasn’t_ the reason Scott was a werewolf and possible killer. In that case, who was responsible for biting his friend? Another werewolf? How many were in Beacon Hills? He supposed he would just have to wait and find out.

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, later was lunch which was almost _three_ damn hours later. Waiting was not Stiles strong suit and he was antsy and unable to focus for his other classes. As soon as he entered the cafeteria, Stiles cornered Scott.

“So you went to Derek and he told you what?” interrogated Stiles

“There’s another one! An Alpha.  Apparently, Alpha werewolves are the only ones who can turn people and this one needs a pack for something. For a hunt. He’s killing people and he wants a pack.  He wants me and Derek.”

Stiles gaped for a moment and then collected himself.

“Why is he killing? Who is he killing? And why does it have to be you two?” He asked

Scott shook his head, “It doesn’t _have_ to be us,” he clarified, “it would just be easier since we’re already wolves.”

Stiles eyebrows furrowed, “Then can you and Derek reject him as an Alpha?”

Scoot nodded, “Yeah, and Derek thinks we can maybe take him down, if we work together.  I just really, really don’t trust Derek though.  Like, why did it take him this long to tell me any of this?”

“Maybe we should just be careful for now.  I mean, as long as the Alpha doesn’t come after you, maybe we can set him and Derek on each other. You know, mutual destruction and all that?”

Now it was Scott’s turn to gape, “I said I don’t trust Derek! Not that I want him dead!”

Stiles shrugged, “Alright. Whatever buddy! Let’s go eat with your girlfriend, my future girlfriend, and the irrelevant douche who is her current boyfriend.”

Scott grinned at Stiles description of Jackson and nodded.

The two sat down at the table, Scott beside Allison and Stiles at the end.

“Hi guys!” greeted Allison, kissing Scott on the cheek.

“Hey!” returned Scott with a goofy grin.

“Sup?” Said Stiles

Allison smiled at Stiles and then turned back at Scott

“We still on for studying after school today, Scott?” she asked

Scott nodded and opened his mouth to reply when Lydia interrupted,

“Studying? How adorable.  You two really are just so cute,” she smiled and turned to Stiles, “you, on the other hand, look terrible. Bags under the eyes, pale, and all jittery too. I have no idea why you’re here.”

Allison looked at Lydia in shock, “Lydia!”

Lydia raised an eyebrow, “What? I’m just saying he looks sick. Maybe he should go home. I don’t want whatever he has.”

Jackson snorted and muttered, “Yeah, I’ve heard loser is contagious.”

Stiles, meanwhile, was more than a little paralyzed because Lydia hardly ever noticed him, especially if he didn’t force it. Did he really look that bad? He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, almost none last night because-

‘ _No, no, no. Stop that,’_ He thought, ‘ _don’t think about it_ ’

But, yeah, he hadn’t been sleeping much.  He did feel pretty shitty when he thought about it and this gave him a decent excuse to leave school early and maybe catch a little sleep. Really, if Lydia Martin, the girl who resolutely ignored Stiles his entire life, decided to acknowledge he existed to tell him he looked ill, maybe he could get everyone else to believe it.

“Yeah, I think I might go home.  I mean I had trouble sleeping last night and I do feel terrible. So, I’ll see you guys later.”

Stiles stood abruptly and didn’t wait for a response before heading out of the cafeteria and to the office. The nurse took one look at him and told him to go home.

 _‘Holy shit, I must look horrible.’_ Stiles thinks, slightly horrified.

He walks to his Jeep and drives home.  He collapses on his bed almost immediately and does his best to sleep a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles fails at that, of course.  Given his luck with sleep the past few weeks, he didn’t know what he expected. Even worse, it’s the dream with his mother again.

Except this time they’re at home. Sitting at the kitchen table. Peeling potatoes.

 _‘What the hell?_ ’ Stiles thinks to himself.

“I don’t think I like that Martin girl.” Claudia announces.

Stiles looks up from his peeling and stares at her, “Why,” he asks, “She’s great! She’s so smart and has great grades and she has the most beautiful strawberry-blond hair and a pretty petite figure and-”

Claudia slammed her hand on the table, jostling the pile of potatoes they’ve gathered.

“I do not like the Martin girl! She is disrespectful and rude. She ignores my son, _my_ son, and thinks herself above you, above _me_. You are not to associate with her any more than absolutely necessary.” She commanded.

Stiles looked at her, incredulous, “But Mother! Please, that’s unfair! She really is a wonderful girl!”

Claudia glared at Stiles, “You think I care? You will obey me. You _owe_ me your obedience after what you did. Besides, I’m doing her a favor. Limiting the world’s exposure to a plague like you should give me a sainthood.”

Stiles head dropped low and he whispered an almost silent, “Yes, Mother.”

Claudia smiled and went back to peeling.

 

* * *

 

 

The world spun and _changed_. Stiles wasn’t in the kitchen with his mother anymore. No, he was in those god forsaken woods again, out in the Preserve. This was where he and Scott were looking for the body the night Scott was bitten.  Why would he dream of this?

Stiles walked forward, slowly, carefully, trying to figure out where he needed to go to get out of here.  It was dark, pitch black almost. It was a new moon and a cloudy night, so Stiles could barely see his hand in front of his face.  He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone, using it as a flashlight. He walked for what seemed like hours through the dark forest.

 _‘This isn’t the worst dream I have ever had_ ,’ Stiles admits to himself, ‘ _it’s almost soothing. Really peaceful._ ’

He wonders if, just maybe, this might be the end to the plague of dreams he’s been dealing with the last few weeks. It would almost be poetic, what with the whole dark forest and a wondering soul trying to find-

Stiles tripped over something and fell face first into the dirt.

‘ _God, what the hell?’_ thought Stiles.

He pushed himself up and turned to look at what tripped him, shinning the light on the ground.

It was a body.

Half a body, in truth. The upper half of a girl. With strawberry-blond hair that he recognized on sight.

Stiles reached, ever so slowly, to turn the body over with shaking hands. It, _she_ , rolled far easier than he expected.

It was _her_.

It was Lydia.

Lydia Martin was torn in half in front of him.

Stiles sobbed and _screamed_

There was a growl, an inhumane, unnatural growl to his left. Stiles turned, tears streaming, body shaking violently, to face where the noise had come from.

Then his world ended in a flash of golden eyes and _pain_.

Then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who hates Claudia? If anyone familiar with dragon age is reading, know that Stiles is, in fact, in the Fade when he dreams(as you probably know). So, you know what that means. For everyone else, you'll find out what the Fade is eventually.
> 
> Regarding the crossover, there won't be any dragon age characters. Basically, Thedas, and other relevant continents, was in the TW world (maybe the Pacific) and pulled an Atlantis and sank. So it's gone. Only relevant info from DA is in regards to magic and the Fade and demons and spirits. Sorry bout it!
> 
> Now, I do want to know if I should continue this. I would really love to, and I might anyway because I love this idea, but I am very busy with real life (like all of us) and I want to know if you guys think it'll be worth it. If I do continue it, I probably won't update for a while as I'd like to have a few chapters written in advance. So, if you have an opinion, let me know please! I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> As promised, here are wiki links to dragon age and magic lore:  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Mage  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Fade .....(The quote at the top of this article is really relevant to Stiles' struggle)  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Dreamer  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Veil  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Demon#Demonic_possession  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Abomination  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Harrowing
> 
> Thank you so much again! I hope you a wonderful day/night and week!


	2. Obedience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Here we are again. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. It feels sorta awkward and is shorter. So, I apologize now if it's really shitty. School has been draining me and I wanted to get this out so yeah. But, if you please, tell me what's fucked up and what's not and all that. I have an idea where I want to go and I'm having issues getting there which is why this chapter might feel odd. Sorry. Oh well! Enjoy!
> 
> oh and this takes place during the episode where Derek gets shot if anyone gets confused.

Someone was shaking him.  Stiles eyes flew up as he bolted up in his bed, gasping for air.

“Whoa! Hey, bud, it’s okay. Calm down.” Stiles’ dad grabbed Stiles by the shoulder and guided him back down to the bed.

Stiles breathed deeply a few times before looking up and meeting his father’s eyes.

“The school left me a voicemail yesterday saying you went home sick. When I got back last night you were already asleep. How are you feeling? You look really pale and I think you might have a fever.” The Sheriff’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern and he placed a hand on his son’s forehead

Stiles brushed his hand away, “I’m okay, don’t worry about it, really. What time is it?” Stiles questioned.

John looked at Stiles skeptically, “It’s 7:45-”

Stiles interrupted him quickly, “Wait AM? Like the morning?”

John rolled his eyes, “Yes, Stiles, AM. Now, I’ve got to get to work and-“

Stiles is already away from the bed and heading to the closet to get his clothes, “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier? I’m going to be late, _again_ , and I really don’t need to deal with that attendance lady and her crap right now!  I have a friggen test in friggen Spanish tomorrow which, by the way, I suck at and I really-”

Stiles’ dad stops him, “Listen, kiddo, you’re staying home today. You obviously slept for more than 12 hours because you are still wearing the clothes you had on yesterday, yes, I’m not an idiot I can tell when you haven’t changed, and you just need to spend a day relaxing. You look pale, more so than normal, and have a lot on your mind. Now, I know I’m your dad and you don’t want to tell me everything that’s going on with you, but you can at least take a break for a day, for me.”

Any argument Stiles had died at the ‘for me’.  His dad was just worried because he had no idea what was going on with Stiles (not that Stiles had any idea what was going on with Stiles) and just wanted his son to be okay. So, Stiles could stay home for a day, for his dad. Stiles could try to not be a burden on him for one day, at least. For more selfish reasons, Stiles wouldn’t have to worry about keeping Scott safe and not killing anyone or the whole werewolf thing in general for a day.  This way, at least, he could do what She said and avoid Lydia-

_Lydia, cut in half, face stricken in agonized horror_.

So, Stiles just nodded and put his clothes back. 

* * *

 

Staying home, which sounded great in theory, was absolutely the most _boring_ thing ever.  Seriously, Stiles could probably find more interesting things to do waiting in line at the DMV than lying about all day.  He’d already cleaned the entire damn house, _twice_ , and it was only one! What the hell was he supposed to do all day?

‘ _What your Mother says_ ’

Stiles froze.  He froze and he shivered.  That was _Her_ voice. The voice that belonged in his dreams, not here, not ever here, not awake, never _ever_ awake. Why was She here, now? How? He wasn’t sleeping, couldn’t be sleeping.  He was awake, he _had_ to be awake.

‘ _You are awake, sweet boy. Mother is always with you. Always.’_

Always? No, please, god no. He can’t do that, he won’t survive it.

‘ _You’re a dreamer, baby. You will always be dreaming and I will always be with you in your dreams.’_

Stiles didn’t care if he was a dreamer, an idealist, whatever the hell She meant, he just wanted Her gone. Gone, gone, gone.

‘ _That’s not nice. Very rude, actually. You’re the reason I was gone and now you’re the reason I’m back. You deserve this. Now, apologize to Mother.’_

“Fuck off! This isn’t real, shut the hell up!” He muttered.  Holy shit, he was talking to voices in his head now. If Stiles wasn’t crazy before, he certainly is now.

Suddenly, his head _hurt_. It hurt like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was absolutely blinding pain! He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think!  Everything just hurt!

“Agh! Fuck, please, stop it!” Stiles was screaming and just wanted this pain to _stop_.

‘ _Apologize and the pain will go away, my beautiful boy. Mother will make the pain go away.’_

Stiles couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take it, “I’m sorry, Mother! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please make it stop!”

And then it did.  His head was fine, the incomprehensible pain just stopped. He could breathe again.

‘ _Good boy! See? Good things happen when you listen to Mother._ ’

Stiles nodded, “Yes, Mother.”

‘ _Now, Mother’s tired.  Why don’t you go research a little on wolf’s bane? I think you’ll need the information. Eventually. Good-bye, sweet boy._ ’

Wolf’s bane? Why would She tell him to look that up? Not that he wasn’t going to anyway, it just seems strange for Mother to say something like that. Did she know? Did she know about werewolves before?  He had no idea.

Stiles trudged up the stairs and into his room. He plopped down into his chair and set to work. 

 

* * *

 

Stiles is now certain he could be called an expert on all things wolf’s bane.  Spending over five hours searching the Internet for any and all information relating to wolf’s bane, also called aconite, and its various uses was exhausting and slightly rewarding in that he now felt like he had something to offer in this werewolf world he found himself in.

It was also a wonderful distraction. It occupied him for hours and really just let him not _think_. So, Wikipedia, and the Internet in general, was a thing that would be happening often. Not that he didn’t do random research before, the random article button on Wikipedia is a wonderful thing, but it wasn’t a thing he really did for fun.

Unfortunately, Stiles had found all of the relevant information on wolf’s bane that was available to him. He was now stuck in the same place he was before, utterly bored. He supposed he could continue researching things that were now affecting his life a little more. Lycanthropy, hunters, hunting, dreams-

Dead relatives haunting people in their dreams.

Stiles slapped himself. Why had he not done this immediately? He could find a damn way to keep Her out! Was this whole thing really distracting him so much that he didn’t do the sensible thing immediately?

Stiles set to work once again.

 

* * *

 

Stiles absolutely hated losing. It was the worst possible thing ever, especially when it mattered. Today, Stiles was defeated. The Internet did not, in fact, know all. Everything he could find, which was a lot of useless, had nothing that actually matched up with what he was experiencing. Loss of control in what seems to be an almost lucid dream, twisted relatives (because She was not the mother he remembered) haunting you, and _hearing those relatives’ voices in the middle of the fucking day_. Seriously, what the hell was that?

Stiles was going crazy. He was literally going insane. That was the only explanation he could think of. Maybe it was sleep deprivation?

Stiles heard a very loud thump downstairs. That was not his dad. He wouldn’t be home for a while yet and Stiles was not expecting _anyone_ to be visiting him right now.

‘ _I’m either hearing things, again, or that’s an intruder. Well, fuck. Not at all what I need right now.’_

Stiles grabs the nearest weapon, his lacrosse stick, and slowly, ever so slowly, makes his way down the stairs.

When he reaches the front door, where he heard the thump, he cautiously approached the door and took hold of the handle. 

Stiles twists the handle and throws the door open. He steps outside-

And promptly falls on his face.

What the hell did he trip over?

Stiles turned his head around and saw-

Derek Hale. He tripped over Derek Hale.

A _bleeding_ Derek Hale

Holy fucking shit.

“Stilinski,” Derek groans, “Help. Please.”

He gapes for a good 30 seconds before he nods and scrambles up, reaching down and throwing Derek’s arm, not the bleeding one, _what the fuck is that a bullet hole?_ , and somehow stumbles into the kitchen.

He barely makes it to the sink before they both collapse.  Derek, of course, gets blood on the floor and moans.

“Stilinski, you have to cut it off. My arm. Off. Please.”

“Fuck no, I’m barely hanging on right now, okay? I’ll call an ambulance,” Stiles grabs a towel and does his best to bind the wound, “and you’ll be just fine and why the hell aren’t you healing?”

Derek shakes his head, “Poison. Wolf’s bane.”

Stiles froze. Was this what She meant? How did She know?

“Stiles. Off. Please.”

Stiles’ mouth drops again.  “I- what- I guess I can try?”

Derek doesn’t respond. In fact, Derek is breathing in a very unhealthy, shallow manner. He’s sweating like crazy and is so far beyond pale.

“Derek? Derek? Dude, please wake up. Please! Fucking please!”

Holy shit. Stiles is almost sobbing now, tears dripping from his eyes.

“Derek, don’t fuck with me! Wake the hell up!”

Derek doesn’t respond again. He’s not breathing.

Not. Breathing.

Stiles grabs Derek’s shoulder, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“Please!”

“Derek. Derek, don’t do this to me, _please._ ”

“Not again. Please, god, not again.”

“It’s my fault. Again.”

Someone died because of him. Of his pathetic lack of _strength_. His unwillingness to endure, to act. To do something.

Derek Hale was dead on his kitchen floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Sorry 'bout that. The way I figure it, Derek had to find out where Stiles lived and make it to his house after going to the school and finding out Stiles wasn't there. Will explain where Scott was later. So, since that took a lot longer, added with the physical activity he had to go through and things, Derek, sadly, expired. I know. I cried too. BUT! read the tags.
> 
> And I'm sort of, kind of, just a little bit, taking a few liberties with possession and demons from the dragon age lore. More will be revealed late. I promise the real Dragon Age things will come soooon. Also, who's excited for Inquisition?
> 
> Also, probably going to change the summary a little bit.


End file.
